Thoughts on the Lunch Lady
by deadlydaisy8o8
Summary: Oneshot about the lunch lady and why she is the way she is. What are her motives anyway? What makes her tick? this explores her point of view on things. mabye we don't know as much as we thought. refrences to Mystery Meat.


AN:/ This is a little drabble i have about the Lunch Lady. I was writing a scene in this other fanfic I'm secretly working on and i got a little carried away with it. I decided, before i carved away most of the irrelevant stuff, to copy paste it into a second document and make it a short story. I really like it. I always like giving the villains reasons to be villains. especially if those reasons make the villains look less like villains. Lets see how many times i can say villains without confusing half of you to death. ;) please enjoy!

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**Thoughts on the Lunch Lady**

by: deadlydaisy8o8

_Originally Uploaded: 24, January, 2010._

_Edited: Saturday, December 22, 2010, 3:14AM_

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It had been a while since we had fought. I knew when I was beat, the ghost boy had gotten exponentially stronger and I knew I wouldn't stand a chance, but that doesn't mean I couldn't hold a grudge. I mean, they had changed the menu. _My _menu. I had worked for forty years at that school, perfecting it. I knew the awful food that the school was trying to shove down those teens throats every day. I had given my most valiant effort to make it the best that it could be.

I sometimes spent nights at the school experimenting on different recipes, seeing what I could do to make the food at least presentable. My niece had been anorexic and died at a young age when I myself was alive. I was determined to make sure that never happened to anyone else. I always talked in a reassuring voice; I made sure every student that went through my lunch line knew that my door was open with a nice plate of chocolate chip cookies if they ever wanted to talk. But most of all I made the food as appealing as possible. I toiled away slaving over every steaming pot to make sure it turned out okay. No one would use the excuse that the food was gross, in order not to eat.

My prized accomplishment was my meatloaf. When I was the cook it was rare to see a bag lunch on meatloaf day. I was famous for it. Sometimes kids that had graduated actually came back to the high school and went through the lunch line just to get a piece. I was finally at ease, it was packed with protein. I crammed as many calories into that meal as I could. I tried to serve it at least once a week, that way nobody would go too long without a good hearty meal. I was happy. I never saw an unfinished plate come through the dirty dishes.

Of course after I died the quality of the cafeteria food slipped tremendously. The new lunch ladies only half heartily followed the careful recipes I had written down. But my meatloaf at least managed to retain its enormous amount of calories and protein. Though over time less and less people went through the line to eat it. The meal no longer having the same touch it did when I cooked it. I had clung to a little hope that maybe my meatloaf was getting to someone out there who needed the nutrients.

But then, oh but then, that disgusting little bat girl came along and changed my menu. Poof, just like that, all my hard work was completely erased. And replaced with what? GRASS! MUD! AND DISGUSTING SHOOTS OF WHEAT! Nobody was going to get anything from that pitiful concoction that that girl had dared to call food. I was beyond furious. I was going to go insane; I very nearly did; only barely being able to retain some sort of sanity. Did this girl know what she had done? Of all the harm she was causing by trying to get people to eat that disgusting crap!

I think the only thing that kept me sane were the valiant efforts of her African American friend. Despite his friendship with the girl he fought tooth and nail to get my menu back. A true carnivore, he wasn't going to settle for the change to nothing but grass on a bun. He was like a beckon of hope. I was honestly about to give up and destroy the school for good. If they weren't going to eat my food, they might as well not serve any food at all. But that determined boy helped me realize something. People still wanted to eat my meatloaf. I was still getting through to the teenagers.

The boy obviously needed help though. I had watched this freak girl wear the board of education down and I knew she wasn't about to give up without a hell of a fight. Boy did I get a surprise when Mr. Danny Fenton tried to stop me. He was alive, but he was a ghost. I had heard rumors sure, but that doesn't mean I actually believed them. I mean, how much of what the Box Ghost says can you actually believe? That little man turned out to be more honest than I had originally thought.

I tried to talk to the girl, to make her understand, but she refused; being as close minded as a rock. Of course that weird little Danny Fenton had to get in the way. I was just starting to get through to her when he showed up to 'save the day'. As you may well have figured out, he won. The battle at least. I was sucked into that stupid little soup container. I never really understood why people brought their lunches to school when they could have a perfectly good hot meal, served to them.

Anyway, I was thrown back in the ghost zone, but that doesn't mean I stayed there. I realized my mistake at being so violent, and on my next trip to the human world I laid low. I borrowed some clothes from Edna, a friend I had in the ghost zone, and wandered around disguised as a human for a while. When I got the opportunity I snuck into the right places overshadowed the right people, and got my menu back. I laughed when the pale Goth girl got to school the next day and saw my meatloaf being served.

Of course while I was there, I lended a ghostly hand in making the food. It was _my _meatloaf after all. That day the cafeteria was abuzz about how amazing the food was. It looked even better next to the mud pies they had been previously eating. Tucker, as I figured out he was called, was aglow while he was eating his lunch that day. The joy he got out of my cooking made me smile. From then on I tried as often as I could to get back to the cafeteria to try to inconspicuously help cook the food so that it tasted like it did when I was alive.

It made my heart warm to watch Tucker enjoy my food. It was the least I could do for him, the way he stuck up for me. Without him I don't know where I would be. I wouldn't have any hope left that I knew for sure.

At first Phantom, (which, he screamed in my face, was his ghost name) wasn't much of a threat. He barley sensed I was there most of the time and when he did; I could get back to the ghost zone without any major damage. Then slowly but surely he got better, and It wasn't long before I couldn't even get through the Fenton portal undetected, let alone cook an entire school their lunch. He destroyed what little happiness I had found. I felt bad about leaving the students to suffer through those disgusting lunches once again. Didn't he notice that when I was around the food was considerably better? How he managed to beat some of the ghosts that came his way I will never know. He's so damn clueless.

Although I don't get to go into the human world very often anymore, I still have a little shred of happiness. I spend my time in the ghost zone trying to make the prefect cookies. Every once in a while I'll try to get through the portal. I zoom over to that Tucker boy's house as fast as I can. Phantom may be clueless but he knows how to throw a good punch. I leave a plate of six or so, on his nightstand, I know it may be stupid to risk getting beaten to a pulp, but I really can't get enough of the smile that comes on his face when he eats my food. It's almost like I'm alive again. So that's why I risk getting my rear end being handed to me. Because I have a little hope that my menu will stay the same. A little hope that even though I'm gone people will still fight to get a good meal. All because of some teenage boy named Tucker. I don't think he will ever know how much he did for me. If only it weren't for that little Danny Phantom. I could maybe cook something for the boy to show him how grateful I was. But no he had to go playing the 'hero'. I may be dead, I may be stuck in the ghost zone most of the time, and I may not be able to fight the little brat with any success anymore, but I can still hold a grudge.

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_Sorry if it seemed a little choppy. I told you it was on a whim kinda thing! i hope you were able to understand it anyway. Ah well me and my impulsive posting drabble thougts. what are you gonna do? (hopefully review!)_


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